Welcome to Nozh
by FeistyDreams
Summary: When 4 or 5 years old, Sousuke was an orphaned boy with kind eyes and a gentle heart. Instead of finding his family or allowing a new one to adopt him, he was placed in the KGB's group 'Nozh' and turned into a cold and hard-hearted child assassin.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:**_ Full Metal Panic! and all within belong to Shouji Gatoh, Shikidouji, and whoever else has bought the rights, etc. Not me._

**Author's Note:** _For those that don't know the set-up, feel free to visit my profile for a link to my translation journal, where I have posted a translation of the Sigma rendition of Kyokuhoku Kara no Koe, which is the story of Sousuke and Kalinin's past. For those that DO know, this is my take on what happened to Sousuke while in Nozh. Since KKNK is in Kalinin's POV, we never get to see this part of Sousuke's history. So, I'm writing it. =P I will hint at parts of KKNK here and there, and it's not necessary that you've read it, but it might make more sense if you have.  
_

_Rated M for violence and touchy subjects. I will warn for the subjects on the chapters they occur in.  
_

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**Welcome to Nozh - Prologue**

"_Are you going to take that doll with you?" he knelt beside me and asked that question in a kind voice. He was always kind to me._

"_Yeah. We're always together," I had responded, hugging the doll close. It was the only thing I had left that reminded me of my mother, of my home, and even though it was torn and had the stuffing come out of it in multiple places, it was still my prized possession. My only possession. "I'll protect this child," I said, holding up the doll as though it was the one talking. It had seen me through a crash. It had helped me find comfort after my mother's death. I believed it to be my guardian._

"_Is that right," he said with a smile. "Be well, Sousuke-kun," he called after me as the man from the KGB took me away. He had told me that it would be to find my family, or, if I had none, they would find a nice home for me. Someplace I would be loved and protected._

_But that did not happen…_

Sousuke blinked his eyes rapidly to get tears to form, wetting his eyes before looking around. He slept with his eyes open these days, and it had not taken him long to learn _that_ skill. No, not after that incident several months ago…

His stomach growled and reminded him he needed to feed himself. His hand tightened on the knife always present in it and he rose silently, looking around for any sign of danger. Satisfied that no one was lurking in the shadows he became one with them himself, creeping through the snowy forest without making a sound. Reaching out his hand to snap some twigs off a brush, chewing on the wood just to make his stomach shut up until he could find real food, he spared a brief thought to his dream.

It had been just about a year since this Spartan life of his had started. He was… how old now? Turning his eyes skyward he thought about it. He did not know how old he was, after all. Five, maybe six? It did not matter. It was trivial, so why did he think about it? Shaking his head to clear it, he turned sharp eyes across his surroundings. He knew _everything_ about this wood. Right down to every shadow that belonged. And _that_ shadow did _not_ belong. Suppressing a feral growl, he spit the chewed twig into his hand and buried it in the snow, then took a handful of snow and put it in his mouth.

Breath was hot. The air was cold. Snow was also cold. Put the snow in the mouth and you cool the breath, so those annoyingly visible puffs of air from that damned necessity of _breathing_ would not show up. He wrapped his scarf around his mouth so he would not be tempted to spit out the burning cold of snow, he stuck to his shadows, fitting his form in to them so that he never added to them. He was invisible.

Making his way to the shadow that did not belong, Sousuke felt his blood hum in his veins. Yes, there would be a kill soon. Perhaps the one there had food on him that he could steal. If not… then he would find a place to bury the body in the permafrost. If things got desperate, he would resort to cannibalism. His straits were not quite dire enough yet. But he _would_ plan for them.

_Got you_, he thought predatorily. The boy was still staring at where he had been, he must have noticed when Sousuke had broken the branch off of the bush. Making a mental note to never do that again, he readjusted his grip on the knife and got in close. _His senses are dull_, he mentally berated the foolish boy in front of him. Just a few more steps and… he was turning around! No longer having the need to be silent, he rushed the last few steps and slashed with his blade, catching the boy across the throat and slicing right down to the windpipe.

Blood splashed his face with a hiss and he looked indifferently down at the defeated child. This boy seemed to be a couple years older than him, and he felt pride in the fact that he had taken the enemy down so skillfully. When he stopped clawing at his throat, when the gurgling stopped, when the fountain of blood slowed to a mere trickle, Sousuke nodded his head satisfactorily and bent down to the boy's side and began rummaging through his pockets. He pulled down his scarf and spit out the long-since melted snow he had held in his mouth with a grimace. Grabbing it from beside a tree like that, he had gotten so much dirt in his mouth.

Paying no mind to the disgusting taste and gritty texture left behind, he came up with some smoked meat and grinned. _Food,_ he sniffed it and then tore a bite out of it, sitting back against another tree thankfully. Turning his eyes up, he lifted the jerky in tribute and took another bite before sighing happily, _meat_. When was the last time he had real meat? It had been so long, he could not remember. All he knew was that _next_ spring, he would be sure to properly prepare for winter!

Half finished with the strip of meat, he pulled it away and looked at it longingly. With another sigh, he tucked it away to finish later. He stripped the warm-looking jacket off of his foe and wrapped it around himself, snuggling his face down into it and taking a moment to close his eyes and revel in the warmth. When had been the last time he was truly warm?

Well, it did not matter. He needed to finish ransacking his victim for anything worth keeping and then _move_. Last thing he needed was to be caught in the throes of post-victory hubris. A leather bladder filled with clean water, another with some alcohol that he could use for disinfecting injuries, some moldy bread and a pack of more smoked meat and he nodded with a grin. If he was careful, the supplies could last him two weeks. It was not ideal, but it was _something_, which was much more than he had just a few minutes ago. The boy had a firearm on him but no ammunition, and he did not feel like carrying the extra weight as this one had. He could see the benefit, but at the same time, small as he was, he relied on being quick. Better to carry the stuff he knew he could use immediately than something he was taking a chance on.

Briefly he spared a thought as to just _what_ that kid thought he could kill Sousuke with, having no weapons on him besides that gun, but he shrugged it off. _Time to _go, his instincts screamed at him. _Something_ was afoot, and he needed to get the hell out of there _at once_. For the moment, he sacrificed invisibility for speed, and rushed through the brush towards an area he knew he could stage a stand. He approached it from the side instead of going straight to it. When his instincts stopped screaming at him he melded into the shadows again and then made his way to the target zone.

Checking traps he had set along the way, he made sure everything would be in working order for whoever was chasing him to bumble into. It was his little fort in this snowy hellhole, though he hardly ever actually _used_ it. It was a distraction, something to lure people into and catch them, a decoy. And it had certainly worked in the past. He often changed up the traps as well, keeping everything fresh and _exciting_, he thought with a satisfied smirk.

Working his way towards the center in a spiral, he made sure to keep his trail clean and his traps unmarked. He relied on his picture-perfect memory of the area to keep track of their locations, and though he knew it was not the smartest idea in case he had to run out quickly, he sacrificed that bit of security for a different one in the form of his _enemies_ being unable to figure out their locations as well. He had certainly been able to navigate other's attempts of the same by learning their markers. No reason other people would be unable to do the same.

Finished with his rounds, he found a place to hide, abandoning his new, warm coat for decreased visibility with a sigh of longing. It would also be a nice decoy, but he would miss the warmth it had given him for a time. He burrowed into the snow, stuffing his mouth with some of it and biting back a groan as the unpleasant taste of dirt filled his mouth again.

An hour passed and he did not move, and he began to wonder if he was starting to go insane from being out in the wilderness for months, forced to kill for food and warmth. Ah! There! He heard rustling and then a shout, then more shouts. A _group_ was after him? _Well, shit_, he thought grumpily. His mettle would really be tested now! He had never taken on more than two people at once before. From the sounds of it there were about seve-… another scream!… six people after him. _Well, it should get interesting at least. I've been waiting for a challenge._

He had to fight the urge to shake his head at that thought. He had _not_ been waiting for a challenge, he told himself fiercely. All he needed to do was _survive_, that was challenge enough!

Wasn't going without food or clean water for days enough?

_Of course not_, a voice whispered inside of him. Maybe he _was_ going insane. _You need to get stronger, better, always improving. Taking on one or two idiots won't teach you a damned thing._

Clamping down on his thoughts, he thrust all of his attention _outward_, listening, looking, searching for danger. No time to dwell on his mental status, he needed to focus on living through this attack. He could hear snow being crunched under heavy footfalls nearby, far too close for comfort. His entire body buzzed with excitement, and he had to fight to keep still. It was not that he enjoyed _killing_, it was the adrenaline rush and the satisfaction and knowledge that _he_ was better than them when he won. _That_ was what had him so… happy.

Listening intently to the steps nearby, he grinned when he heard the direction they were taking. He would not be found just yet and – yes! Down another foe.

"Dammit! Someone find him already, and stop walking into these fucking traps! Idiots!" someone called out. He sounded older than most of the other boys Sousuke had taken on. Maybe, say, thirteen years old? Yes, his voice was cracking slightly, as though at the beginning of puberty.

Perhaps an older child would give him a challenge.

_No!_

He did not need a challenge, he needed to live! That was all that was important! Live and fight and do not cry, that was all his mother had asked of him before she died. That was what he would _do_.

Though somehow, he doubted this was what she had in mind…

_Never mind that_, it was not as though he had been given a choice. He bit down hard on his lip to avoid crying out when one of them tripped over _him_. He had also kicked off some of the debris covering him, effectively outing him to the group. With a snarl, he jumped to his feet and punched a hole in the boy's throat with his blade, quickly withdrawing the knife and reaching down to steal the gun gripped tightly in his enemy's hands.

"Thanks," Sousuke mumbled. He was polite, if nothing else.

Swiftly turning to fire a few rounds into the woods in the direction he knew his enemies to be, he then made a break for it, disappearing into the shadows and underbrush. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. That kid just _had_ to trip over him, didn't he? Now he did not have the luxury of finding another good spot like that. He would have to try to lure the remaining four into more traps, but that was much easier said than done. If they watched the route he took and had any wits about them, they would know the safe paths.

He _had_ to take out that older boy that had shouted earlier. That boy had to be the ringleader, and without him the others would likely be easier to take on. Glancing around cautiously, he nodded to himself and scrambled up a tree, wishing that this was spring when it was so much easier to hide. He did not go high, just high enough that if they passed under him they would not notice immediately.

From the sounds of it, the boys had learned their lesson. They had seen where he had disappeared and were circling the area instead of heading straight for him. _Not good_, he thought with a snarl. In the tree he would be a sitting duck. He really needed to take out that leader. Tipping backward, he fell from the tree and landed on his feet, quickly vacating the area. Good thing too, dirt and leaves exploded at his feet as they shot into that area.

The leader seemed to be hanging back, so now it was his turn to circle _them_, and hope he could come up behind the older boy and take him out swiftly and silently. As he looked around, lurking through the scarce underbrush, he grumbled to himself about their tactic. While he could not vouch for anyone else's experience, _he_ had been dumped in the woods with a gruff "Survive. Do not let anyone else." He had assumed everyone else he had come across had been told the same, considering everyone else before always acted alone.

Then again, perhaps this leader had convinced them to work together under him and that somehow they would all be left alive in the end. He was likely shrewd, and would probably take them all out one by one once Sousuke had been taken care of. Smirking with pride, he nodded at the thought. Yes, that made sense. From what he had encountered there was no way these boys could get him without helping each other. He was better than them- Ah! _Prey_, he made his way as silently as possible across the crunchy snow and pine needles, grateful for the other boy's nervousness. He had a heavy step and heavier breath, covering up Sousuke's noises until it was too late.

As the warmth of blood sprayed him again, he sighed as he moved away from the fresh corpse quickly. _Not him_, he frowned, glancing around quickly and changing out the melted snow in his mouth for a fresh handful. Down to three now, he grumbled and set to searching out that leader again, who he could hear shouting in the distance. Humph, so he had circled the wrong way then? No, he took the path of least resistance. That was all. He did not make mistakes. Mistakes were fatal.

He sprinted to cover the distance between him and his target, dropping to his stomach when he felt he was close enough. He worked to hide himself with natural debris, grateful for his small body, and pointed the barrel of his new gun through the bare twigs of a shrub he hid in, wincing but careful not to make a sound as he was poked rather uncomfortably all over. Opening his ears but closing his field of vision, he stared through the sights and kept his aim on an open space he hoped that boy would stumble across.

Reluctantly swallowing his mouthful of dirt-snow, he grimaced and slowly, so very slowly, burrowed his face into his shirt in hopes of hiding his breath. He could not afford to take a hand off the gun just then. Several long minutes passed and he could taste copper in his mouth from how hard he was biting his lip. He wanted desperately to wipe his chin, to spit it out, but he could not move so… _Shit!_ A loud crunch behind him, he spun, silence be damned, and fired the weapon awkwardly, wincing as hot shells hit his face, bounced off his chest. He did not get to use firearms often, and he grimaced at the realization that he still had a lot to learn.

Grateful he was already on the ground, he growled and forced his aim down from the sky and back at the target, who was doubled over and holding his gut. No, the recoil was too strong for him just then and the boy was open. Gripping his blade in arms that felt suspiciously like jelly, he launched himself off the ground and buried the blade to the hilt behind his enemy's collarbone. Yanking the blade out, and down no thanks to his height, he yanked again until it was freed and then slashed across the boy's throat, but not before feeling a sharp pain in his side.

Abandoning the heavy gun that had given him more trouble than help, he shook his head fiercely, wiping sweat away from his eyes and breathing heavily. _Still_ not the right boy. And now he was bleeding. This needed to end and end _fast_. Scrambling, he tore apart his slowly dying foe's shirt, roughly bandaging up his injury and taking off from the now far too exposed position. He did not go far though, hiding in a nearby slightly thicker brush, ignoring the throbbing pain in his side and the thorns biting into his skin. Grasping the hilt of his tried and true knife tightly, he slowly moved his arm to bring up another vile mouthful of snow, shifting so that a thin branch brushed along his injury to stop the shiver of cold he had felt coming on.

There, the sound of a pair of footfalls, his last two enemies approached. They approached the now-corpse of their fallen comrade, toeing his body with disgust. Backs to him, this was his best chance. He threw the knife, satisfied when it lodged into one's head, rushing out and yanking it from the falling boy and lashing out to slash the other's leg, grinning at the spray of blood from the femoral artery. An arm wrapped around his neck and he was lifted off the ground, the knife not having dug deep enough to do any real damage, just shock and pain, to the first. His first instinct was to lift his hands, but the pain in his side grounded him, and he took stock of his situation. So much weaker than this foe, there was only one thing he could do.

Shifting his hold on the knife, he jammed it behind him, repeatedly stabbing the boy, hoping the pain would get him to let go before he blacked out. Coughing as he dropped to the ground, he held his throat and glanced to the side to see the boy hacking up blood. He stumbled over and severed his enemy's spine at the base of the neck, weakly forcing the blade through, grimacing as the act took far longer than he had wanted it to. Crying out as he felt a blade stick in to his calf muscle, he dropped, forcing his fall backwards, his weight on his blade hand, the knife managing to pierce the chest bone and into the heart of his enemy with the help of his entire weight in the fall.

He took in deep shuddering breaths, staring weakly through the canopy at the harsh low angle sunlight of the clear winter sky. His body shook and he groaned, forcing himself into a sitting position. He had to stop the bleeding, he could not afford the drop in blood pressure, not with this cold. Another set of footfalls, and he groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Had he miscounted? No. These steps were so very heavy, and so precise. They belonged to adults then.

He had not seen adults there before, not since he had been delivered to this Hell.

Sarcastic clapping reached his ears, and he turned, tired, glaring as fiercely as he could manage with his blurring vision. "Very good. You would be the winner then, child. Welcome to Nozh."


	2. Vrach

_AN: Sorry for how long it took me to get this pathetically short chapter out. This is about it for the set-up, though, things will start picking up with the next chapter, and it'll start getting quite dark soon enough. Also, I apologize for the broken English speech. This is the only chapter that will have such a headache to it. I felt it necessary though.  
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_Rishtalak: This is actually a prequel to the series, detailing Sousuke's days in Nozh, before going to the Mujahideen. Sousuke's never going to get older than 8 in this fic, so he won't have met Kaname yet. ^_^_

_Enjoy!_

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**Welcome to Nozh - Vrach**

"_Welcome to Nozh."_

The deep voice echoed in his ears as he blinked, waking up with a funny feeling, one as though someone had pulled sheer black fabric over his eyes. Everything was hazy, and he had to stare for a long time to focus in on even the ceiling. His body felt heavy, and he lay completely still as he took stock of his situation. He must have been drugged, that would explain why he felt strange. He had been injured before, never had the opportunity to use pain killers of any sort before though, and the feeling was foreign to him. Foreign and stifling. He did not like it.

"You're awake. Good," the voice was both hard and kind at the same time, reminding him of the Master Sergeant a year back on the submarine. He could not let himself relax just because of that, though, and he shifted his exhausted gaze to the speaker, sizing him up. Tall, thin, scrawny even, no muscle to speak of, glasses, a lab coat, beak-like nose, sallow cheeks, short-cropped light brown hair with lots of silver streaked through, softened and intelligent green eyes, thin lips turned up in a gentle smile. Likely not a threat, but no sense coming this far to lose to as sorry a looking man as he was.

Narrowing his eyes, Sousuke opened his mouth to speak, frowning when no sound came out. "Ah, you must be thirsty. It's the pain killers, they give you cotton mouth," the man laughed softly as he bustled about, the sound of water running through plumbing filling his ears, then the man came back with a paper cup filled with water. "Here you are, I'll help you sit up and drink this. No? Or do you not understand me?"

Forcing himself into a sitting position, he reached out his hand for the water, draining the cup, spilling no small amount down onto his chest as he gulped greedily. Wiping his mouth, he handed over the cup and spoke in broken Russian, "No. I understand. Mostly."

"Do you understand English?"

"No. Japanese. Russian. That it," he frowned and coughed, wincing as the wound in his side throbbed from the harsh motion.

The doctor placed a gentle hand on his shoulder to steady him, sighing when that hand was swatted away. "I'm not going to hurt you, you know. I'm a doctor. I'm here to help you. You can trust me."

Sousuke shook his head, looking at him suspiciously. "No. I no one trust."

"I see," the man sounded almost sad, definitely tired. He mumbled something that Sousuke barely caught, "What are they doing to these children?" Shaking his head, he smiled again, a tinge of sorrow in the expression, "Well. I hope one day you may trust me. Until then, I hope you will at least allow me to help with your injuries. How did you get these, anyways?"

Frowning, he watched the man carefully, wondering if he was some kind of spy. When had he stopped trusting people? He could remember the days when he trusted _everyone_. He felt foolish for those times... Shaking his head, he shrugged, glancing away defiantly. "Fight. Nothing more. Who me here bring? When?"

"Ah, a KGB officer. You know the KGB?"

"Kah-gei-bei?" he blinked, frowning at his obvious Japanese pronunciation. He desperately needed to improve his Russian. He had not been given many opportunities to speak to anyone though. No, in truth, this was his first real conversation since he had been handed over to this KGB of theirs.

"The _Komityet Gosudarstvjennoj Biezopasnosti_." Blinking, Sousuke nodded, the 'Committee for Government Security' then. So it was an official organization, which was why kind Andrei had seen fit to give him over to them. He doubted that man had expected _this_ to happen to him. This doctor must be similar to Andrei, believing in his nation and his government.

Foolish, then.

"It's unusual that they would bring you here, I don't understand why they wouldn't bring you to a municipal hospital, find your family… You and these other boys," he sighed and shook his head, speaking under his breath. While he had been addressing Sousuke, it was obvious he wasn't actually speaking to him, just of him.

Sousuke glanced around, making a face at his still-dry mouth. Eyeing the man carefully, he decided to ask, taking in everything about the doctor's body language, hoping he would give himself away somehow. He did not like not knowing a person's position. The past year everything was black and white. _No one_ was a friend. This felt… strange. "Another cup water?"

Stiffening with shock and staring openly, then relaxing and nodding excitedly, the doctor smiled widely, "Yes, yes, of course. You only have to ask." He filled up the cup while Sousuke shifted on the cot, throwing his legs off the side and peeking around. The doctor frowned slightly at his new position, handing him the water carefully, "You really shouldn't sit up like this, you might rip your stitches, you should still lie down."

Shaking his head and draining the water again, he sighed, closing his eyes for a few moments. A wave of dizziness crashed over him and he winced, doubling over. The doctor put a pair of steadying hands on his shoulders, and while he wanted to fight them off he just couldn't. Resting his head against the man's stomach he took in deep and pained breaths. After several moments he pulled away, swatting away the kind man's hands weakly. He did not seem to take offense to this action, backing off but staying nearby while Sousuke gripped his head and winced, fighting off nausea.

It was a losing battle though, and he was reluctantly grateful for the bucket he was presented with. He could feel his stitches tear as he heaved violently, bringing up another bout and more pain. Coughing, sputtering, he pulled back with a groan, lifting his hand to wipe his mouth. The doctor beat him to it, swiping with a damp cloth and turning to fill the cup with water again. Rinsing out his mouth and gulping down a fourth cup, he moaned and laid back on the cot, pressing a hand to his side.

It was the doctor's turn to swat his hand away, pulling open the thin hospital smock to examine the injury. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to put you out again and restitch this."

Sousuke shot his hand out, gripping his wrist tightly and shaking his head. "Pain I handle can. Vulnerability not. Just do it."

Tensing, shaking his head, the man objected, "No. I won't torture some kid. I need to administer pain medication." Reaching out for the boy's arm and bringing a freshly filled needle up, he gasped in surprise when he was suddenly spun around, the needle falling to the ground, his arm twisted painfully behind his back.

"No. Sedatives. If you problem have, to me needle and thread give, I self stitch," the menacing growl did not belong in a five year old's voice. In a way, it was more terrifying from such a young boy than if it was coming from a large and heavily muscled man.

"Okay, okay. No sedatives. But I just can't let you do it yourself," Sousuke could not help but grin at the fear in this man's voice. That he could bring an adult to this level made him feel proud. _No!_ He shook his head roughly, letting the doctor go and putting on a neutral expression.

Nodding in concession, he lay on the table again, looking warily up at the man, "Okay, you do."

Bustling about nervously, gathering up his equipment, he looked down at the boy that was watching him suspiciously through pain clouded steel eyes. Bringing up a brave smile as he held an ice pack to the injury, he spoke calmly, "If you don't mind my asking, what's your name?" Several moments passed and his smile faltered for a moment before he sighed and forced it back, "Okay, I'll go first. I'm Doctor Afanasiy Chesnokov."

Taking the ice pack away and sanitizing the injury, cleaning up the torn stitches, eliciting several pained groans from the boy, he thought he would never get his answer. "I… Sousuke, I think. Sousuke… Sagara."

"You think? …Ah, sorry, this is going to hurt," he pushed the needle through, skillfully threading through the flesh to close up the wound.

Staring blankly up at the ceiling, grimacing as whimpers passed his lips, he tried to push the pain out of his mind, "Yes. What I were called remember not. Just that name in clothes I wore written. To name it closest thing I have."

"Don't you know what your parents called you?" he spoke softly, coolly, his voice changing tone and putting Sousuke at an odd ease.

"No. No father. Mother last year died. Just what she told me remember. An-ojisan Sousuke-kun called me. So, that name might be," he grunted in pain, his own voice coming out rough and strained.

The doctor shook his head and finished up the work with a soft sigh. "I see. It's a shame, really. You should be with your family, not here like this, but," he was interrupted by the door swinging open and the entrance of several rather imposing men in uniform.

"Well, doctor? You've sure been taking your sweet time about getting the boy fit," the man at the forefront growled out the words with a menacing grin plastered on his face. From his prone position on the cot, Sousuke observed the men, deciding their leader could do with a healthy dose of sanity from the wild look in his eye.

Afanasiy had stiffened at their entrance, and gave off the vibes of a panicked deer, stunned into staying in place and hardly able to react to the predators before him. It took a prodding with the butt of a rifle to get him to speak, stammering so badly that Sousuke could hardly make out what he said, "I-I-I'm s-so-rry, I just, I w-was just, th-at is, I wanted t-to make sure he w-was all-ll ri-iiiight," he trailed off as the soldier before him lifted the gun to press against his throat as their commander seemed quite displeased with the response.

"You don't get paid to make sure they're 'all right,' Afanasiy. You get paid to make sure they're _functional_. Now, tell me, can the boy move about?" gripping the short hair at the nape of Chesnokov's neck, the commander stuck his face up close, and while he was of shorter stature than the doctor, sheer force of personality and the bulk his muscles added made him seem so much larger. That, and with his hold he had pulled the terrified doctor's head back so that he could look down at the man.

Closing his eyes against the sight of the dangerous man being so close, and against the rank breath blown in his face, Afanasiy shook his head carefully. "N-No sir, his stitches, and the pain, he's n-not ready."

"I don't like that answer, Afanasiy. Not at all," in response to his words, one of the soldiers cycled the bolt on his AK-74, the clicking noise instilling yet more fear and anxiety in the doctor.

With a faint sigh, Sousuke forced himself upright in spite of his pain. As a result of forcing his words through gritted teeth, he sounded even more angry and dangerous than he'd intended, much to the commander's amusement. "I fine. Just few stitches, pain. Nothing I handle not. Now, what want?"

"Oh? What's this? You lying to us Afanasiy? Boy says he's just fine."

"He lie not. I injuries bad have. But, I work through can. He this know not," why he was taking the effort to protect the doctor he didn't know. The man was definitely no threat to him if that was how he acted in the face of a few guns, but his safety shouldn't matter. For some reason, though, it did. And if all it took was a few words to spare the man, then what did it really matter to Sousuke? Save for the fact that his Russian really was quite atrocious and it took him no small amount of thought to form his words.

Finally releasing Afanasiy, the commander laid a heavy hand on Sousuke's shoulder and gripped tightly, painfully tightly. He could help the wince, but he was able to drive it away and glare up at the man defiantly. Suddenly, the commander burst out in laughter, clapping the boy's shoulder repeatedly. "Good boy, good boy. Glad you made it through the initial step. Now," he took an abrupt change, quieting significantly and looking down at Sousuke with a dangerous gleam in his eye. "Are you ready to _really_ learn how to kill people?"

Afanasiy gasped in shock while Sousuke narrowed his eyes calculatingly, looking the large men over once again. "I already kill people know how."

"Of course you do boy, that's why you're still alive. But everything you know, you know from your wit, and if you're going to survive in the work we'll put you to, then you'll need some… 'official,' training." Releasing Sousuke's shoulder, he shrugged and glanced away before shooting a mocking glance back at the boy, "We'll also teach you how to speak Russian properly, boy, 'cause your speech is just atrocious. Trying to figure out what you're saying… humph! Russian and English, you'll need to learn those."

"Fine," it wasn't as though he had a choice. He could tell that if he refused then he would just be killed. The doctor looked at him in concern, but the poor man was obviously too terrified to stand up for the child, despite his strong objections. That was, of course, why the KGB had chosen him to be the doctor for the children. Afanasiy was kind enough to see to it they got truly _proper_ care, but too afraid to stand up for his beliefs and try and stop them from going out and getting injured in the first place. "Teach me," he allowed a smirk to cross his lips, looking at the commander with a challenge shining in his eyes, "One day, with knowledge you give, I you kill."


	3. Trenirovka

**WARNING: If mention of rape bothers you, stop reading now.**

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**Welcome to Nozh – Trenirovka**

Panting heavily, Sousuke's vision blurred from exhaustion and all the blood rushing to his head, and he could only sort of make out the detail of sweat dripping onto the dirt below him. Concentrating on the darkening pools of grit, he tried to clear his vision from the haze that had overcome him to no avail. He was getting used to it though, and if he couldn't see things sharply, then he could at least learn to make sense of the blurs.

Grunting as a foot stepped heavily onto his back, he braced his arms, continuing the push-ups as was expected of him. If he stopped then he could expect some _real_ pain, in whatever form the instructors felt like at the moment. Sometimes it was a beating, taking blow after blow, usually to the shoulders and ribs. Other times they stripped off the offending child's shirt and then cane or whip him. Sometimes they'd leave the shirt on and let the fabric irritate the welts. And sometimes…

He wheezed, the pressure getting to be a bit much for his exhausted body. The foot moved from his back to toe at his chin, and he made a face at the stench of the boot and the feel of muck on his skin. Not like he wasn't already covered in blood and dust, but he could do without the added discomfort. His head was pulled roughly up and a gruff voice ordered him to stare ahead, the man stepping on his fingers when walking away to move onto the next boy. He _hated_ when they made them stare ahead. The added strain to the neck and shoulders was miserable, especially after a long day of running through rainy mud-fields and trading blows with staves. Though, he had to admit, it gave him a lot more scenery to sort through his blurry vision, and he distracted his mind from the aches of his body to categorize the shapes.

Finally came the long-awaited call to get up, and everyone scrambled to their feet. He glanced down the line while catching his breath and standing tall, despite the protests of his screaming muscles. He was the smallest one there, though not quite the youngest. Still though, looking at everyone as his vision cleared, he could tell he wasn't the worst off. In fact, he was one of few who were managing to keep their back straight and their breathing mostly normalized. Mentally scoffing at the idiots gulping for air, he resisted the urge to shake his head. Didn't those fools realize that their scant lunch would make a reappearance if they heaved like that?

Well, if they didn't, then they did now, as he could hear the sound of retching from the other side of the line. No one flinched as the cracking sound of the butt of a rifle being struck against the boy's back reverberated in the still air. All the sound did for the others was to give them good reason to straighten up and calm their breathing. Random acts of violence were the norm. If someone had gone over to the sick one with a bottle of water and kind words then they might find reason to be concerned. As it was, he got dragged away with fingers digging roughly into the flesh of his shoulders, presumably to be beaten further for his foolishness.

Sousuke barely kept his face neutral as the boy beside him was dropped to the ground with a sickening crack of a staff to his clavicle. Lightning fast, that staff was about to be jammed into his own kidneys, but in spite of his exhaustion he managed to spin to the side and catch the staff in his hands, pulling down to throw the wielder off-balance and then roughly angling it up and jamming it back towards his attacker's sternum. He missed, but the staff was now in his possession, and he leveled it towards the man without a hint of emotion on his face.

And thus was the way things were on the Nozh training grounds. He was not allowed to really hurt the guy so he stopped where he was. The fact that he _could_ was what they cared about. If it had been another one of the boys then he would have followed through and made them regret attacking him. But not one of the trainers. Never them. It meant a rather severe beating, which was rather unfair considering what they were there to learn. These men were hardly fair though.

Staves were handed out to everyone else and they were set into groups to practice more. In the mornings it was pairs. Afternoons they learned how to fend off multiple attackers. It was his day to be the defender, and he stood in the center of a circle of five boys, all older than him by at least three years, and all taller than him by at least a foot. They grinned wickedly, chuckling and joking amongst themselves. Well, fine, if they were going to be like that then he'd just have to show them. He might be small and young, but he was determined. The call to start hadn't been issued yet, but they rather advocated unfairness there and so he attacked. He slammed the butt of the staff up into one boy's jaw and then spun the length to slam into another's cheek with a satisfying snap.

Reacting to him now, the other three had brought theirs into a mid-guard and pulled back a step to get away from his next sweep. If they thought their reach would save them though then they were sorely mistaken. Feinting a downward swing, Sousuke swiftly yanked back to lunge forward and take out the kneecap of one, who fell with a shout of agony. He only barely managed to swing the staff into a block, catching part of the blow on his shoulder, his reaction time getting cut from the strike and he suffered a full force swing to his ribs, feeling some bones crack at the impact. Only all the drills kept the staff in his hands and he grimaced against the protests of his broken ribs, barely mustering a downward arc onto the skull of the boy in front of him.

It was blocked though, and his legs were swept out from under him. All he could do was bring his weapon up to guard his chest as he gasped for air, blinding pain shooting through him with every breath. He had expected more blows, and if they came he didn't know it. A particularly shuddering exhale had sent a shock through his system great enough to shut it down, and the black-red haze of suffering was the last thing he knew that day.

When he woke up it was to the now-familiar blinding white light of a lamp and the haze of pain medications. He took stock of his situation, his ribs heavily padded to the point that he was forced to take in shallow breaths. Hearing rustling to his right, his head fell heavily and limply to the side, his neck simply not having the strength to turn it at a normal pace. "Afanasiy?" he hated how parched he always was when waking up from these injuries. He knew it was the pain killers, and those he appreciated, especially since he had managed to train the doctor to only use enough to dull the edge so that he could keep his wits about him. But he still hated this feeling.

A cup of water was held beside him and the man helped him sit up, the movement awkward with all the bandages wrapped around his middle. As he gulped down the blessedly cool liquid he was given the list of the extent of his damages. It was the next morning as well, and while breathing and moving was going to be painful, it wasn't impossible for him. None of the bones had truly snapped, only a crack and some painful bruises, so he wasn't at risk for splintering bone into his lungs or another some such miserable ending he might suffer. He nodded to the man and sat back again. These days he enjoyed the little bit of rest he got when at the infirmary. Not that he ever really wanted to wind up there, given the throbbing in his side for that instance, but it was like a little vacation.

Hearing movement from his other side now, Sousuke turned curiously, wondering how he had not noticed another person in the room. There was another cot beside him, and on it laid a girl, probably about a year younger than him. She was under the blankets, but given her stiff movement, whimper of pain, and the thick bandage on her cheek, he felt it safe to assume she was in far worse shape than he was. Just where had she come from though? There were no girls on the training grounds and this place was used solely for Nozh. If there had been another group of trainees, one of girls, surely he would have noticed by now.

He stared at her curiously as he tried to puzzle out just who she was and where she'd come from. When she opened bright green eyes shimmering with tears and looked over at him he could feel something inside of him twist in pain at the completely hopeless expression. That was unusual, to say the least. When was the last time he'd felt any emotion besides grim determination? He blinked, meeting her gaze, and the two stared at each other for several long minutes while Afanasiy busied himself, unaware of the silent exchange.

Sharply looking down at movement, he stiffened up when her arm dug itself out of the cover of blankets to reach out towards him entreatingly. He forced himself to settle down, recognizing she was no threat to him, and he glanced back to her face to see tears now streaming down her face, then back to the hand that was reached out to him. For some odd reason he could feel his ears heating up as he freed his own arm, reaching it out to her as some strange force he could not describe beckoned him to. Grasping her hand, his lips tugged in a frown, though not at her. It was directed at himself, confusion as to his actions. The girl smiled though, her lips quivering as the expression threatened to disappear at any moment, and he stared into her eyes, blinking slowly.

"Dimah," she whispered hoarsely. He could hear Afanasiy turn to them sharply, but he could not bring himself to break eye contact with the girl.

"Sousuke," he replied, and she nodded to him, closing her eyes and returning to sleep, her fingers holding onto his tightly. He continued to stare at her, watching her as she slept with a now-peaceful expression on her face. It was a bizarre encounter, and he found himself at once wishing it had not happened and shaken his understanding of the world, and feeling somehow an odd calmness in his soul from the pure emotions her eyes held.

* * *

Days like this were the worst. The rain beat down on their tired bodies that were heavy with exhaustion and mud. They were partnered up, though occasionally someone would fall into another and then a group fight would begin until they naturally worked their way separate again, sometimes trading partners in the exchange. As it was, Sousuke stood in front of his fourth opponent of the day. He was panting, wishing he could take the time to spit the muck from his mouth, and he just wanted to collapse.

It was not his day. Three times he had been the one to stumble against someone else. Three times he had been grabbed from behind. Three times he'd been choked to the point of nausea. Only once had he been the one to push someone over, and even then it was just sheer luck that a rock happened to be there, causing the boy to twist his ankle and trip into someone's fist. His shirt was fisted and he thought 'here we go again' as he swung his arm around the offending limbs, pulling his attacker sharply and tearing the boy's shirt while bringing the other arm to slam against his opponent's throat and hooked his heel around an ankle, tugging and dropping them both to the mud.

Creating a new puddle with the force of their landing, Sousuke spun his body around to pull on an arm and wrap his leg around the enemy's throat, snapping the arm over his leg and rolling away. He sprung up and looked for the next person to face. He didn't want to, but it was pretty much a requirement. It was a risk, too. The opponent of whoever he attacked next could either help or turn on him. Quickly calculating the dynamics of the two pairs by him, he opted for the two to his left. The others had too perfect of a rhythm down, definitely having a chemistry to work well as teammates and would turn against him. Just as his newly chosen opponent went to lunge at the other boy, Sousuke came up behind him, yanking him by the shoulder and shoving his leg to the front, balancing the older boy's weight over his hip and tossing him to the ground.

Unfortunately for that boy there had been a rock hiding in the mud, and his skull made a sickening crack on impact. Circling away from the fallen, Sousuke warily eyed the new boy while some of the instructors muscled through the mess to get a hold of the injured. They had a choice now due to the way Sousuke had come to face him. They could join together and team up on other pairs, or they could face each other and go on as usual. Sizing each other up, they came to a silent agreement, both darting to take care of that other pair Sousuke had been looking at.

Thanks to the mud, Sousuke's new partner was much slower at getting to them, and he found himself facing down the two boys alone. Falling to the ground in a ball of flailing limbs, the three tangled together in a mess. It worked to Sousuke's advantage though, as a misplaced elbow caught a friend in the eye, and he managed to squirm out of the mess, about to jump right back in with a clearer view when the halt was called. Sore and tired, no one could really help the fact that they trudged into a line rather than snapped to it. This was the most grueling day they'd experienced so far, and even all the training they had over the past eight months hadn't prepared them quite enough.

And the day wasn't over yet.

They were forced to run over to another of the training yards, this one set up with various targets. Some were clipped and left to hang in the wind and flutter about, all of them at varying distances and angles. Over torn and soiled clothing they were made to put on their tactical vests, loaded down with so much that the things couldn't have weighed less than fifteen pounds, perhaps even upwards of twenty. No one complained, though they all wanted to. This was the first time they were going to be made to run that particular course in such terrible weather. New things were bad. New things meant screwing up. Screwing up meant punishment.

They stood in their line, grimly staring down the course, running over what they knew of the terrain in their minds. Expression set in determination, Sousuke narrowed his gaze, examining the turf. It stood to reason that if the packed ground of their melee grounds had suffered as badly as it did in the rain, then the less-pounded ground of the ranged course must be a mire. One by one the boys were called to make their way as quick as possible over the course, and they were all made to turn the other way so that they could not view the mistakes one might make. When it was his turn, Sousuke stiffly rose to his feet and drew his pistol from its holster. Some of the boys preferred rifles or sub-machine guns. He preferred his pistol. He had a hard time finding a comfortable grip on a rifle, and SMGs tended to get away from him, though he had not tried since gaining a considerable amount of muscle mass.

His hands were a tad on the small side, but bracing with his left hand and firing with his right he had found a rhythm that worked for him. Taking note of the shades of the mud and where footprints had managed to leave marks that did not get washed away, he dashed through the course. His aim was not particularly great, but he hit the marks almost every time at least, and with a speed to ensure that he would not be the one to get shot first. Finishing up, he grimaced at his time when it was called. Although he had the rain to thank for it, he had not gotten such a terrible time since his first month.

Despite the poor time, he was awarded with a good score and was allowed to go inside to clean up before reporting to the mess for his meal. He took off at a run, despite his exhaustion, feeling cheered by the idea that he would not be covered in muck when eating for once that month. Passing by the other boys that had finished, he noticed they gave him rather dirty scowls and made a note to be extra cautious. He always was, to an extent, but a little extra paranoia would be warranted given their expressions.

Sousuke kept running until he got to the showers, peeling off the clothes that were practically a second skin at that point, twisting the knob to get a blast of hot water. It burned his skin but felt so wonderful, almost touching the bone-deep chill that had seeped into his body over the course of the miserable day. He scrubbed himself down, but it would take far more than just one shower to fully remove the grime and grit from his skin. Still though, he was several shades lighter after cleaning off, and the darkening of his skin from near two years ago wasn't solely from the layers of dust he had accumulated. Spending almost all of his time in the sun, the only reprieve he ever got really was days like today and his nights.

Turning the water off, he toweled down and grabbed a fresh set of clothes from the stacks of pre-sized clothing set up for them. He had switched to the next size up that week, and while all the other boys had some measured growth since they were there as well, at least he now was not in the smallest available uniforms. Stepping out of the showers, he stopped short, dodging back through the door when he caught the flash of movement that should not have been there. Reaching for the knife that never left his side, he held his breath so he could hear everything. The scratch of movement on the opposite side of the wall he was pressed against was all the impetus he needed.

Snaking through the door, low to the ground, he reached out for the person he knew was there and yanked them to set the blade against their throat. When the person he pulled _squeaked_ he took the time to take closer notice. Long blonde hair clear of the damage of poor hygiene and sun, smelling oddly of flowers, and the skin his hand pressed against was soft, not tight and rough. Sighing, he released her, "Dimah."

She shivered, watching him carefully as he sheathed the knife, holding her hands under her chin in uncertainty, her eyes wide with tears threatening to spill. He shook his head, trying not to let it affect him like it always did. She was _always_ crying. Since they had met in the infirmary four months prior they had seen each other several times. Anytime he wound up there she always seemed to show up. He assumed it had something to do with Afanasiy, but he really had no idea why the man bothered. The girl always seemed to be miserable, and he couldn't possibly understand why he had to be made to sit through her tears.

"Sousuke," her voice was tiny, and he looked at her sharply. She hardly ever spoke, really, whenever they saw each other they might say each other's names, but otherwise they were quiet. For some reason though the girl liked to be close to him and would sometimes crawl into his cot in the infirmary. Usually she reached out to him. Right now though, she was recoiling, and it looked to be from more than just the fact he'd held a knife to her moments earlier. No, he could see from her expression that she was over that. She had surprised him before and knew that he meant her no harm. Something else was keeping her away from him.

Looking at the bruises on her cheeks and the blood seeping through her shirt, he shook his head slightly and reached his hand out to her. "Let's go see Afanasiy."

"No!" it was an exclamation, but even so it wasn't loud. There was a fierce tone of objection in her voice, but it seemed she couldn't put much strength behind the word. Taking a closer look, he noticed her neck was bruised and realized that must be why.

Uncomfortable, he shifted his stance, looking up at the ceiling. He was no good with people, and he hardly ever traded words with the boys he trained with. Really the most conversation he got was in his language classes. He'd gotten caught up in Russian and, along with the others, spent three hours first thing in the morning eating their breakfast while learning English and Farsi. For him and the others about his age the languages were easy, and they were far ahead of the rest, often able to spend the morning conversing in a jumbled mess of the languages.

Dropping his head, he stared at the floor, frowning, and then shifted his gaze back to her. She was looking at him expectantly, but what it was that she wanted he had no clue. When he spoke his voice was strained with the effort of forcing even a hint of concern into his tone, "What, then? You look badly injured, you should be treated." The words were harsh, but they were all he had. Comfort, soothing, kindness, these were things that were foreign to him, a hazy memory best left forgotten. She made him want to learn them again, but that was dangerous, and he had no use for them outside of the times he spent with her.

She wavered where she stood, listing to the side with an empty expression. Lifting his arms, he stepped forward to catch her but she righted herself as he reached her, looking up at him with a tinge of fear. "No. No doctor. No… touching. It hurts."

"Of course it hurts. You're injured. That's why you nee-."

"No. I can't. Being touched. It hurts. I can't. Not… Not an adult," that was the most he'd ever heard her speak before, and her voice was hoarse from more than just the choking. The words confused him, and he cocked his head to the side curiously.

With a sigh, he pushed for more, since she did not seem to be forthcoming with explanations and he _hated_ confusion, "Why not an adult? And if that's the problem, we can still see Afanasiy, and he can instruct me."

She shuffled her feet, staring straight down, her head bowed so far that she was losing her balance and swaying again. Finally she stopped, anchoring herself to the ground, and nodded softly, "Just… Don't let him hurt me?"

Turning her head up, she looked at him, her usually wide eyes were half-closed and dim with despair. He did not have the appropriate words or any idea what he should do. So he turned away, staring at the wall as his mind raced. He just didn't get it, get her, not one bit. And he hated the fact that she stirred up emotions in him. Things were so much simpler when he didn't feel, when he didn't need to think of anything more complicated than how to break someone's neck or keep his footing on a slippery track. And why was she looking at him like that? She looked… Dead. She looked dead, and she looked at him with a glimmer of hope, and when she asked that so pleadingly… Why did she trust him so? Yet no one else?

"Why would Afanasiy hurt you?"

She flinched, her hands digging into her skirts, fisting them tightly as she shook. "He's a man."

"So am I."

"You're a boy."

He frowned but he wasn't about to dispute it. Whatever difference it was she saw, it made him trustworthy to her where no one else was. Shrugging it off, he turned in the direction of the infirmary, looking over his shoulder, "All right. Let's go."

Trembling, she reached her hand out to him, wrapping her other arm around her waist defensively. Nodding slightly, Sousuke took the hand and started walking, nearly tugging her down the hallways as she stumbled along behind him. He knocked on the door before tugging the door open regardless as the trainers all seemed to do. Stepping in with the girl, he turned to close the door and lead her over to one of the cots while Afanasiy jumped out of his chair with a clatter at the sight of the two coming in unaccompanied.

Sitting her down, Sousuke motioned to the cart of tools before meeting the man's shocked gaze. "She's hurt and she wants me to treat her. I'll need your guidance."

Bringing over the cart while shaking his head, the man protested, "I can't let you do that, you could-."

"Doesn't matter. She won't let you. So either you help me, or I just try to remember all the things you've done when fixing me up and probably make things worse," there was a hard glint to his eyes, and his voice left no room for argument. Afanasiy stared down at him, looking at him for several long moments before his shoulders slumped and he sighed, giving in. "Good. This will go better then," turning back to Dimah he gestured at her shirt, "There's blood soaking through. Take it off."

Eyeing the doctor warily, she hesitated, her body near frozen with fear. Exasperated, Sousuke barely resisted the odd urge to stamp his foot on the ground or bash his fist into something. "You came to me for help. You asked me to protect you. I told you yes to both. Either you trust me or you don't. Pick one!" He was getting angry and it rather showed. The timid girl shrank away from him, gathering up the blankets to hold in front of herself as a shield. Afanasiy rested a hand on Sousuke's shoulder, shaking his head softly. Frowning, he looked at the man, then to Dimah, then back up. "I don't understand."

"She's afraid and you just yelled at her. You need to be kind," he explained gently.

"But I _am_ being kind," what he had done for the girl up to this point was far more than any of the other boys would have done. He really did not see where he was going wrong with things, but he was admittedly way out of his depth. Slipping his hand behind his back, he grasped the hilt of the blade kept there, the feel of his favored tool comforting him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Afanasiy looked upwards for a moment as he thought of how he might explain things before turning back to the young boy. "You can't raise your voice, that's being rough. You need to be soft, gentle."

"I've no use for softness," was the derisive retort.

With a sigh, Afanasiy patted his shoulder once more before turning to the cart, "Maybe not out there. But your life will be pretty miserable and lonely if you abandon it entirely."

Snorting in response, Sousuke shrugged, "My life _is_ out there." He said it so matter-of-factly that the doctor's heart near broke. A six year old boy had resigned himself to a life of blood and death without a single sign of regret or remorse. The idea of a 'normal' life seemed to be far-fetched to him. No, in fact, what Afanasiy considered a normal life was just fantasy to the boy, something tales might be told of but did not truly exist. His day to day of learning to fight, learning to kill, having his bones broken and breaking the bones of others, _that_ was what real life was.

"Maybe now it is. But later you might find something that makes you want more out of your life than this burden of fate you've been handed."

Sousuke mulled over the words quietly, watching as Dimah timidly removed her shirt and then covered up with the sheet. Deciding he could think more on it later, he looked up at the tools, watching Afanasiy prepare everything, sanitizing them and laying them out, "Why don't you go wash your hands, to the elbow, mind."

Bowing to the man's experience, Sousuke made his way to the sink his cups of water always came from when he woke up in a drugged haze, scrubbing his arms down and then returning. Plastic gloves were slipped over his hands and a needle was threaded for providing stitches. Hooking his foot in a chair so he could pull it over to the bedside, he sat down beside Dimah and nodded to the sheet. "Pull it down so I can see your injuries."

The girl shifted uncomfortably until the sheet pooled in her lap, crossing her arms over her chest and keeping a cautious watch on Afanasiy. He was walked through the care of her injuries, grimacing the whole while. This made no sense to him. The violence they committed on each other and that was dealt onto them by the trainers served a purpose. But this girl was no combatant and yet she had suffered at their hands. She was incredibly timid, shy, and soft-spoken, and there was no way that she could have acted out and done something to earn a punishment. For the first time in his life, he felt the cold wash of anger calming him. It did not blind him, instead letting him see things in a sharper light. It was as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice over his head and awakened his senses.

This was cruelty, plain and simple. Inflicting these injuries served no purpose other than to delight the person who had done it. If he ever found out just which of the trainers it was… Well, he would find out just how good their training was by practicing his assassination skills out on them. How fitting, the training he received at their hands being their downfall.

He patched up a bruised and split cheek and lip. He stitched slices that had been carved into her skin with a precise hand and thin knife; frowning at every single inch he sewed shut. From the tips of her collarbones to the curve of her elbow were slashes. Tracing the sharp angles of her shoulder blades were slashes. Across the line that would be the underside of her breasts when she was older were slashes. From the bottom dip of her belly button to…

Afanasiy turned from the gruesome sight of the brutalization that had been done to the girl. Swallowing thickly, Sousuke stared in horror, the only sound in the room that of the doctor's retching. He was far too young to understand it, but understand it he did. The terrible things that had been done to her were the same that were done to the boys of Nozh that particularly offended a trainer.

Those boys often did not live long after.

Trying to reign in his budding temper, Sousuke looked up to Dimah, reading her expression. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, a trail of tears burning their way down her cheeks, her face bright red. He curled his fists up on his knees, his entire body rigid, livid with rage. In a voice tight with emotion and an undercurrent of murderous intent, Sousuke asked, "Who did this to you?"

"Lutrova," she murmured weakly. Of course, she had no concept that saying his name might be bad. The man was so sure of his position as top dog that he had no reason to believe that anyone could threaten him. That would change though. Sousuke had already made a promise to that man that he would kill him with the skills he learned. Now he had further reason to follow through with the threat, and to do so in a timelier manner than he had originally intended.

After convincing her that she would be safe if he left her there with Afanasiy, in no small part thanks to the help of some heavy sedatives, Sousuke left the room, his body tense with unreleased rage. He had no idea that he could feel so angry over something, the purely human emotion wreaked havoc on his system. He had been made numb out of necessity so long ago, to his young mind, and having to deal with such a raw sensation was difficult.

He got to the mess hall late, and rather than being allowed to go get his food, he was instead grabbed by the scruff of his neck, tugged away by a hand fisted in the short strands of hair there. There was no fear though, no apprehension. Oddly enough, he felt calm again. Dragged into a room of cold concrete, he was thrust into a wooden chair that had been splintered from rough treatment, the thing toppling him over onto the ground with a snap and a thud. They hoisted the chair back up and bound his hands to it before being ordered out of the room. Even then, even knowing what was coming, he was calm.

Left alone with Lutrova now, the course he'd set himself was clear before him. The man had a sickening glint in his eyes and a wicked grin baring his teeth, a knife held in his hand almost lovingly. Sitting up in the chair, he met the man's gaze defiantly; his anger and hatred for the sick bastard instilled an intent tranquility within him. It was a predator's notion that filled him, and all of his senses sharpened with the thrill of a kill imminent. He would not be the one brought of the room tossed carelessly over someone's shoulder or in a body bag.

The jacket and shirt to his uniform were pulled away, though not off as his bound hands prevented that much, and he could feel the cold bite of the blade digging into his flesh deeply, nearly scraping against his collarbone with its depth as it traced the ridge smoothly. Sousuke did not so much as twitch. He would be feeling it later, that much he knew, but for now he had adrenaline singing in his veins and clouding out the pain. He would bear it, for the moment. This was what Lutrova had put Dimah through, after all. Gaining a better understanding of what that girl had been made to suffer just sent another surge of wrath through him.

The perverse look of pleasure on the man's face was all Sousuke needed to see to know he could make his move. The fools had not bound his feet and he kicked up, slamming his foot into Lutrova's elbow, shoving the arm up and away as well as doing some considerable damage to the joint. The action slammed the chair back as well, and he made the fall as heavy as he could. The wind was knocked out of him, but the chair broke apart and he slipped his bound hands to the front, springing forward at the man in a daze to disarm him, using the knife to cut the ropes binding his wrists and then flipped it to an underhanded style in his off-hand, his main-hand set to stabilize his actions. Now he was grateful for being worked to the breaking point and the time he spent working through exhaustion-blurred vision paid off in that moment, giving him the ability to make sense of the distorted shapes he could barely see after his impact to the ground.

Taking in a deep breath, Sousuke darted at Lutrova who was shouting for people to get into the room. He sliced the man's stomach, spinning low when his hand was knocked away and the blade swatted from his grasp. Hooking his heel under the calf muscle and sharply kicking up and back, he threw his enemy's balance off enough that he could reach up and fist the shoulders of his uniform, twisting around and tossing the man to the ground over his hip. Still holding the clothes, he crossed his fists and pushed down, choking the large man while moving to brace his knee along the soft flesh at the shoulder joint. He knew he could not over-power the man for long and he had to act on the surprise. Reaching behind him, he drew out his own knife and with one clean slash he had Lutrova's throat sliced open, blood spraying up into his face with a hiss.

Calmly standing to his feet, he sheathed the short blade as men finally responded the noise, rushing through the door with rifles at the ready. Seeing the boy there, blood dripping down his face and their commander in death throes on the floor, they were at a loss. Usually in the situation it would be clear, but considering what the boys were there to learn, the fact that this one had taken out one of theirs, and so quickly, they had to assume that the higher-ups that managed the facility would not want such talent wasted. They kept their sights on him though, and he just shrugged, looking at them with eyes devoid of emotion now that his revenge was complete and his anger released.

"He was the one I wanted to kill. But I warn you, if you try to kill me for it, I won't spare any of you." The words were bold, but at that moment he felt like he could follow through with it. Not just because of the pride he had at killing Lutrova. No, this was something different. He had found his rhythm. It had been slowly developing when he was out in the wilderness, but training had thrown him out of it as he had not been in the truly life-or-death situations since. The combination of that training, though, and the throw back to live-or-die, and everything had clicked together. He could see it clearly before him, the path he would take if it came to it. That man had an uneasy stance, that one a loose grip on his rifle, another one looked as though he was happy the bastard was dead and was likely celebrating in his mind, he saw it all. All the weaknesses were spread before him in an instant and he knew how to manipulate them to his advantage.

Finally, one of them lowered the muzzle of his gun and raised his hand to indicate the others do the same. Frowning, he nodded to the boy. "You're quite talented. We'll send this info up the lines and see what they want to do. For now, so long as you mean what you say, you can go on as normal. If you do try to kill any of us though…," and he left the threat hanging with a tap of his AK-74.

Sousuke nodded, walking towards them, feeling satisfied when they shifted uncomfortably, tightening their holds on their weapons. "As I said, he was the one. But just a warning, if any of you touch that girl like he did, I'll kill you too." He walked out of the room with an air of superiority, feeling completely confident in having the upper hand on them. They mulled his words over in confusion while he made his way back to the mess hall again. He was left alone as he grabbed food for himself, and he finished the meal quickly before going to take another shower. There would be only cold water left by now, but that was all right with him. Standing under the freezing spray, he hardly spared any wonder for the change. It was a sudden click, the moment he had seen his opening and seized it, and he felt like he was truly himself now.

He was a fighter. He was a killer. And he was good. Despite the bone-weary exhaustion from the day his body had moved exactly as he wanted it to. Everything had happened as he had imagined it would, playing scenario after scenario over in his head and taking the course best suited for victory. This was the real him. This was how his existence would be. He did not _enjoy_ taking life, but he was comfortable with it. It was a fact of nature. Toweling off and changing once again, he made his way to the barracks, rolling onto his cot with his knife in hand and falling into a relaxed sleep of awareness. It was the best night of sleep he had gotten since his arrival at Nozh. His new-found rhythm allowed him to sleep comfortably while maintaining consciousness of his surroundings. No one could sneak up on him _and_ he could get his rest.

Yes, he was there now. He was where he needed to be. Everything made clear sense now.

He was truly a predator now.

* * *

**AN: How I got this chapter so fast, I don't know. I expected it to be far more painful than it turned out to be. Now, as to the fighting sequences... **

**I watched some videos on Sambo to get an idea on what I would be working with, and as someone who has practiced karate, jujitsu, and ukemi rather extensively, I took what I know and blended it with what I saw. Sambo very much resembles the style of fighting I particularly am fond of and excel at, and is really just even more brutal than the style I love, so I do feel rather confident in the moves used here being appropriate. As someone who is on the small side, I wrote Sousuke's fighting the way that I would personally fight in those situations, taking into account the height differences. If for any reason any of the techniques I attempted to describe seem somehow impossible or otherwise wrong, I would be more than happy to discuss with anyone their ideas behind it and where I'm coming from on it. (As you can probably guess from this rather annoyingly long note, it's a bit of a passion of mine, and I welcome all discussion on the matter.)**


	4. Otkriteye

**Welcome to Nozh – Otkriteye**

It hadn't exactly been easy to get so far, but it was starting to feel as though it had been. Sneaking into high-security areas was second nature to him already, just a couple years since he had been put on the job. That was why they trained children, really, quick to learn and hardly any ingrained morals to quibble over. He was grateful that they had taken his talent and honed it as an assassin. The children that showed no sign of aptitude for the more stealthy killing arts had been trained into mindless soldiers, nothing but cannon fodder. He could almost feel bad for them, if he felt anything towards them in the first place. Being a solitary killer lent itself to having some amount of independence, needing to rely on his wit when on the job to see him through. Were he nothing but a drone he would never succeed at his work.

From his vantage point, he could see his target clearly, and it was just a matter of time before he could strike. Excitement was humming through his veins, not the kind that showed happiness as he had to wonder if he even knew what that was, but the hunt was soon to come to a close. Whenever he completed a kill he felt a certain sense of pride, a job well done leaving him fulfilled. There was nothing wrong with that, not when it preserved his life. Doing his work meant he was fed, was granted free time, was given proper exercise, and had a roof over his head. He was a simple child, his needs were being met. And as long as his keepers' needs were being met as well, then the two people who had become close to him were taken care of as well. Afanasiy and Dimah were allowed to live their lives relatively fear free now that they had him on their side. The people in charge were more concerned about their marks being made appropriate amounts of dead more so than having the opportunity to abuse a doctor and girl-child, so they allowed Sousuke his small desire.

Sitting in a false wall that had been set-up to keep valuables hidden, taking advantage of his small size, he kept watch from within through a hole by a piece of furniture cut into the board so that he could see into the room without being spotted easily. Sousuke would have felt more comfortable had he been able to find a point of assault where the man would be alone, but the target very much enjoyed his women which was unfortunate. Those women would have to die too now. Witnesses were not to be tolerated.

Finally, an opportunity presented itself, one where he would not have to kill any more than necessary. It wasn't that he minded, he just preferred to leave less of a mess behind and not to have to do so much work. Pushing all thoughts from his mind, he set to work with a practiced ease and single-minded intensity. The women giggled and disappeared behind the door to the bathroom, leaving the politician alone in the bedroom wearing a wide grin and about to strip down to nothing else. Not really wanting to see that, as well as not wanting to waste any more time, Sousuke emerged from his hiding spot.

Pulling the fake wall off silently, he replaced it before slinking forward, stealthily approaching his target. The less noise the better. Resisting the urge to shake his head as the man dropped his pants, he decided instead to just thank whatever might be responsible for the fact that the man made himself an even easier target. Since he was at a lower level now, it was much simpler for the child assassin to reach out and cover his mouth with a rather tiny hand, deftly slicing his throat so deep that the spine was visible. Lowering the man's body to the ground, he raced to the window, glancing around before throwing himself out. The building was made in a way far too convenient for those with ill-intent, and he had no need for any kind of equipment to make his way to the ground safely.

Once on land, he turned his head this way and that, keeping his ears open for all kinds of sounds. Just as he started his mad dash for the perimeter wall, he heard screeching from the room he'd just left, screeching that was far too loud. As he scaled the wall, he spared a glance at the building and realized he'd left the window wide open. Foolish! It was going to be a long night of covering up trails, leaving fake ones, and dodging flashlights and search hounds. Grumbling to himself inwardly, he took in a steeling breath and set his mind for the task ahead.

* * *

Exhausted, Sousuke fell into his bed while unsheathing his knife in one trained motion. Face first in the pillow, he allowed himself the action for just a moment before the blood rushing in his ears and hampering his hearing made him too paranoid. Rolling to his back, he stared blankly at the ceiling, eyes slowly closing as his body relaxed for sleep. It wasn't meant to be, however, as a knock on the door jolted him to awareness, however timid it may have been. Shaking his head, he edged over to the door carefully, taking caution as he opened it. Spotting Dimah and no one else, he pulled the door open the rest of the way.

She stood there in front of him, blonde hair done up in curls and pinned back, wearing a freshly pressed spring green dress. She stayed at the door, hands folded in front of her, staring at him as he looked on in confusion. Tilting his head, he looked into his room, then back at her with a small scowl on his face, "Are you coming in or wanting me to go somewhere?"

Clenching her hands at the harsh words, she looked down at her feet shyly, "Walk?"

With a sigh, he spared a glance for his under-used bed and then nodded to her, stepping out of the room and closing the door. She was as clean as he'd ever seen her, which he took to be a good sign. He had been trying to get better treatment for her for a long time now, and seeing her looking well was a pleasant surprise. Still though, he wished she would get more of a backbone. It took every bit of his trained hearing to understand her when she spoke most of the time, and the way she always sought out his company but never had anything to say or do was irksome. He had very little appreciation for the fact that she might just want to be in his presence, preferring instead for there to be a reason for her dragging him around and interrupting his sleep. Once again he wondered why it was he protected her so when he was mostly annoyed by her mannerisms.

She led them outside and across the training fields where the newest batch of children were being worked to the bone. They paused to watch, Sousuke feeling nothing but gratitude that he had finished that hell up as swiftly as he had, and Dimah frowning, looking between the group and her companion sadly. Shaking her head, she turned and continued walking, bringing them to the edge of the woods and beyond. There was a lake out there, one they visited often either together or alone. She took off her shoes and placed them on a rock before approaching the edge of the water, looking down as the mud came up between her toes.

Shrugging, Sousuke found his landmark and dug up the make-shift fishing supplies he'd hid away, setting up his line of plant fiber and hook of barbed wire. It wasn't hard to find some worms to dig up, and soon enough he had one hooked. Perching himself on a boulder, he cast the line in a clean motion, holding onto his stick in one hand as he turned to look over at Dimah. The girl was peering out at something in the water, and he followed her gaze to a bunch of aquatic plants. Blinking, he noticed a frog in the water, eyes looking out at them. Smiling a rare smile, Dimah tied up the skirt of her dress by shifting its sash around and then she waded out into the lake. With a shake of his head, Sousuke, wondered why it was she would willingly enter such filthy water, especially when she was looking so clean that day.

Slowly approaching the frog, circling around it with intent, Sousuke couldn't help but be impressed by the way she made so little disturbance in the water. Finally close enough, Dimah reached out and caught it, holding it gently and raising it to eye level. The frog kicked out a leg that was left hanging off her hand and she carefully set it right before placing her other hand on top of the creature. She carried it from the lake while holding it close to her chest, eyes trained on it with fondness. Watching her intently, he leaned away slightly as she walked up to him with the frog, holding it out for him to see. It wasn't any kind of disgust that had him recoiling, it was the bizarreness of the action leaving him feeling awkward.

Pouting, Dimah brought it back to her, stroking it lovingly, "No like?"

"Don't really care. Why'd you catch it?"

Shrugging, she brought it up to her face, looking into its eyes, "I like them."

"Why?"

"They're cute," she answered quickly, though he could tell she was thinking further on the question. He kept his mouth shut, waiting for her to elaborate. Bowing her head until her nose rested atop the frog's, she giggled softly at the feel of its slick and bumpy skin under hers, taking care not to disturb it too much. "They're strong, don't you think?"

Sousuke stared at her in disbelief, shaking his head, "Frogs? Strong?"

"Well, when you talk about how easy it is to beat someone, you compare it to hitting a fly out of the sky, right? Frogs eat flies, so they're strong."

"They say that because it's so easy to take out a fly."

"That's not the way I see it," was the stubborn reply. Realizing he wasn't going to get through to her and not really feeling any desire to be bothered to try, he left her to believe what she wanted. Nuzzling the frog, smiling as it croaked, she pulled away and looked at the animal affectionately. "They're pretty calm when you catch them, and they're nice to the touch. I like the way they look and move too. I wish there were more things that emulated frogs."

Making a non-committal noise of agreement, Sousuke turned his attention back to his fishing. He had felt his line twitch, and he started tugging experimentally. Satisfied, he pulled the line closer bit by bit until it was close enough for him to hook the line on a notch he made in the makeshift rod, and with a flick of his wrist he landed the fish beside him. Taking out his knife, he freed the fish from the hook.

Hugging the frog closely, Dimah looked on sadly, "You're going to kill it?"

"Yes"

"Why?"

"To eat it," he felt the response was rather obvious.

"But they feed you, right?"

"Yes. It's nice to catch my own food once in a while though," he had the fish bleeding out at that point and was removing the gills with deft and experienced actions.

Tilting her head, she regarded the fish sadly, feeling as though it were a kindred soul. Resting her chin on the patient frog, she stared at the dying fish with the thought that they both had been taken from their natural environments and were left to die slowly and agonizingly as they were used to suit someone else's purpose without being cared about in the slightest. Yes, they really were too much alike. "Poor thing," she murmured quietly, feeling a pang of rejection as Sousuke snorted in a rude response. Sighing, she looked at him directly, feeling comfortable enough with him at that point to do so. She talked more, at least to him, since Lutrova's death, though she was far from over what had happened. Nightmares plagued her sleep and she had panic attacks whenever she was touched by adults, but her relationship with Sousuke had grown stronger, despite the fact that he almost always seemed annoyed. At least he knew how to keep his hands to himself. "Do you enjoy killing?"

"No," he took the question in stride, answering simply and emotionlessly as he gutted the fish and then speared it on a stake he set by a fire pit he left there.

Watching as he built his fire, she stared at the small flames that grew, their soft blaze reflecting in her green eyes. "Then why do you do it?" her voice matched his in emptiness just then, and the frog sat almost forgotten in her hands held below her chin. He just shrugged, walking off to put away his crude fishing pole then returning to poke at the fire and keep an eye on his impromptu dinner. Plain fresh caught fish didn't really taste any worse than the slop he was fed at mess. If anything, it was an improvement. At least it _had_ flavor!

It was several long moments before he elaborated, the silence stretching between them as it was like to do. The feel of her eyes boring into his back prompted him to explain, and he turned towards her with an expression as though it were all too obvious. "What else is there to do? As you said, they feed me. They also clothe me and keep me out of the weather, so I do what they ask. There's nothing wrong with completing a job."

"A family does those things without expecting anything from their child," she spoke wistfully. She barely remembered her family, but she knew that at one point she had a much better life than this. Or at least, she fantasized that she did. It was hard to say.

"Not true," was the muttered reply. He turned back to stare at his cooking fish, recalling his mother's last words. He didn't remember much of her, but the words 'Live' and 'Fight' sounded rather like he had something expected of him after all. And that was exactly what he was doing. Living and fighting, it was all he ever did.

That was the end of that conversation. Dimah took up residence on the boulder he had been on while fishing and they each sat there, lost in memories of pasts best left forgotten. Petting her frog, she looked out over the lake while Sousuke ate his fish and cleaned up his fire, not really wanting to see. Standing up once everything was set to rights, he stared out over the lake, noting that the sun was setting. It had been late when he had returned, usually getting back sometime early or mid-morning. His mistake had cost him many hours, and it wasn't until late in the afternoon that he had collapsed on his bed just to be awoken by Dimah.

Days without sleep weren't uncommon to him, but it didn't mean he liked them. Given the opportunity, he would have preferred to sleep, and he hoped she would be ready to leave at some point soon. He was loathe to leave her out there alone, and when she wanted to stay outside, she kept him there with her for as long as it took for her to be ready. Slipping off the rock, Dimah once more touched her nose to the frog's head, whispering softly to it before releasing it into the water. Turning to him, she nodded towards the path and then made her way out of the water and over to the rock where she had placed her shoes. Wiping off her feet as best as she could before slipping them off, she started the walk back, much to his relief.

As they crossed the now-empty training yards, their attention was drawn to a truck unloading equipment into a warehouse. Frowning in confusion, Sousuke wondered just what the bizarre machine they were maneuvering would be used for. Beside him, Dimah shivered, and he was shocked when she took off running. Shaking his head, he bolted after her, following her all the way back to the building she lived in. Double-over and panting, the girl was close to retching. Rubbing the back of his neck, he hesitantly offered to pat her back. The thought of someone touching her was the last straw though, and she turned to the bushes, heaving what little dinner she had eaten. Sighing, Sousuke looked around, wondering just what he should be doing in that situation. Something had her spooked, but since he didn't recognize anyone at the truck nor the machine, he had absolutely no idea just what it might have been.

Whimpering, Dimah wiped her mouth and straightened up, turning to him with fear reflected in her eyes, "I'm going to bed."

Not knowing what else to say, Sousuke just nodded his head, "All right. Until later then."

"Maybe," she replied cryptically, disappearing behind the door.

Still confused, he shook his head slowly to clear it and shrugged, turning towards his own barracks. When he entered the room one of the officers was standing there with a missive in hand. "You have your next assignment. You leave first thing in the morning so rest up."

Leaving the documents on the boy's bed, the man left now that his duty was done. Sighing, Sousuke picked up the papers and leafed through them with a frown. Well, his language lessons were about to come in handy, the reason for being taught Farsi now clear. He was going to have to go to the border with Afghanistan and cross over into the Panjshir valley to get to the next person he was to kill. General Majid, the Tiger of Bdakshon, leader of a set of Afghani Guerilla fighters bent on fixing their government and kicking the Russians out, that was the man he was to kill next. This one would likely prove difficult, he thought with a frown as he packed the notes up into a folder. Settling back into his bed, he drifted off immediately into sleep.

Morning came too soon, and his eyes shot open at the same time as they did every day, give or take a few minutes. Rolling out of bed, he made his way to take a quick, cold shower. Feeling more awake and alive, he returned to his room to dress, gearing up and packing what he would need. Glancing at his watch, he made his way to the infirmary, Afanasiy having requested he check in if he was going to be gone for some time so that way he knew to keep closer watch on Dimah. Walking in, he saw the man reading a report while sitting next to a forgotten meal. Hearing the door close, the doctor jumped and looked over at him. He was about to open his mouth and say something, but catching sight of all the gear his jaw snapped shut and he set aside the papers stiffly. Frowning, he nodded his head to the pack, "Going away?"

"Yes. Don't know when I'll be back."

"I see," Afanasiy trailed off, glancing nervously at the documents he'd been looking over.

Tilting his head, Sousuke glanced at the papers then back to the man, "Something wrong?"

Startled, he shook his head frantically, "No, no, nothing's wrong. Good luck. Come back soon."

Recognizing that the man was lying, Sousuke shook his head and left, not in the mood to get into it. As he left the barracks he saw a bunch of men removing a mattress from the building Dimah lived in. It was covered in blood and he frowned, wondering what had happened. Thinking back on the doctor's nervous behavior, he stiffened up, feeling sure that the blood there must have belonged to the young girl. Approaching his transport to the country border, Sousuke paused and stared up at one of the officers, "What happened?"

"Nothing that concerns you. Don't worry, the girl is safe. When you get back you'll be able to see her."

Not entirely convinced but not really having a choice, Sousuke just nodded and tossed his bag into the vehicle and hopped in after it. The job came first, that was set in stone. He could not put Afanasiy or Dimah before the job without putting them at further risk, and so he set off. If anything had happened then people would die when he returned, it was as simple as that. Leaning against the door, he looked out the window at the compound as it sped past, a strange feeling in his gut. A nervousness tugged at him, and he wanted to hop out of the vehicle right then and check on the girl. Something told him he'd never see her again, and he had to believe she was dead. It made him sick, having to leave like that, and he wondered if they had done it on purpose, giving him this job at that time. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm his nerves as the car sped down bumpy roads to the drop point for his next job. No matter what happened, he was sure everything would be different.

It was just a matter of different how.

* * *

**AN: Well, it's over. I had wanted this to be two separate chapters, but when I finally started writing it out it just wasn't wanting to be worked out that way. It took me so long to get this out because what I'd initially written wasn't working and I had to scrap it and start over, which is rather unusual for me. But, well, all in all I'm pleased. I would have liked it had I been able to keep the story going longer, but it just didn't want to be written that way. I WILL do a sequel at some point, showing Sousuke in the Mujahideen, and I plan on doing a third story in this set as well where he's a mercenary before joining Mithril. I may or may not write a little Kaname backstory fic as well, depending. We know bits of her past without knowing what exactly made them occur and the events surrounding them, so it might be interesting to do.**

**Thanks for reading this, I know it's not the usual sort of fic, but for all that it was difficult, it was fun to write. I'm glad there are people that found enjoyment in it.  
**


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